A Ghost Story
by Minako Aria
Summary: Sunsets mix with memory to bring two friends together for comfort.


A Ghost Story  
  
Another winter comes  
  
His icy fingers creep  
  
Into these bones of mine  
  
These memories never sleep…..  
  
-from "Ghost Story," by Sting  
  
It had been a perfect spring day. The sky an endless crystal blue, fluffy white clouds drifting lazily by. Now the golden light was casting hesitant shadows across the late afternoon landscape, the yellow-orange sun sinking slowly, reluctantly making way for its silvery counterpart. Even the sound of the busy Tokyo streets was somewhat hushed. All up and down the street, shop keeps were sweeping or bringing displays inside, or just generally starting the process of cleaning up and closing shop.  
  
On one side of the street a group of teenage girls in school uniforms walked out of a shop, each carrying a flower or two and laughing softly to each other. Inside the small shop the soft whisper of brooms sweeping up leaves and ribbon, paper scraps and pieces of green foam blocks could be heard. The cash register rattled to itself thoughtfully for a moment before "chirruping" and spitting out the cash drawer with a faint ~whir!~ and ~snap!~  
  
Slim golden hands moved nimbly, counting out change and handing it to the waiting customers, two more high school girls, their attention so focused on the young man before them they missed their change the first time he handed it to them. "Domo arigato gozaimashita," his voice was gentle and husky as he watched the two leave, still casting wistful glances over their shoulders.  
  
A tiny smile, part amusement, part exasperation and he was moving out from behind the counter and removing the dark green apron he wore. "Ken kun, " he sang, "Yoji kun went out to bring in the display over 30 minutes ago and he hasn't come back yet, could you please make sure he's still there and not flirting with some of the girls?" A dark head poked around the corner from the back room.  
  
"Sure Omi, just let me close up the refrig- oh. Never mind, Aya's got it." Ken came into the main part of the shop wiping his hands on his apron, which he then removed and threw on the floor in a heap. "I got dirty water and chemicals all over it, it needs to be washed or I'll smell like a stagnant pond next time I wear it, " he grinned sheepishly. Omi just rolled his eyes, his smile growing just a little before it was overcome by a yawn.  
  
Smiling sympathetically at his young friend, Ken walked over to the front door and propped it open as he left. A few moments later Omi heard a groan from outside. Ken came slouching back inside a few minutes later, grumbling to himself about, "lazy-ass bums, " and, "slackers." He clicked a small radio on and carried it closer to the door so it could be heard outside. Omi sighed, "Yoji kun…." Another heavy sigh, and then he picked up a broom and began to sweep up the places that had been missed before.  
  
Outside Yoji was stretching languorously, one hand behind his head, the other holding a broom. Standing in the fading sunlight, he looked strangely like a piece of shadow that had somehow broken loose of its moorings and was now able to move about on its own. Ken paused; eyes riveted to the older boy's slim form, then shook his head firmly, blushing.  
  
Clamping down on the feelings that were creeping through his chest, Ken began picking up potted plants and carrying them inside. First large ferns, and ivy, and other heavy potted specimens, and then the smaller hanging plants were hefted and carried inside the flower shop. Tiny purple, pink, blue, and yellow buds were sprinkled across the greenery that decorated the sidewalk outside the Koneko no Sumu-Ie. Little motes of pollen drifted through the air, tickling Ken's nose as he hefted three pots at a time and carried them to the cool shadowy recesses of the shop's interior. A quick glance out of the corner of his eye showed Ken that Yoji was actually doing his work, albeit slowly and without much enthusiasm.  
  
There was a cigarette dangling from the tall man's lips, and he somehow managed to make it look artful. Thin trails of gray-white smoke drifted in intricate patterns around him before dissolving into the quickly cooling air. The light was deep amber in color now and you could already see a few stars and a thin slice of moon on the horizon. As he swept, Yoji watched the point just over the buildings for the change. And after a few minutes it happened; the sky shifted subtly, light blue giving way to ever- darker blue before finally deepening to a rich violet color. He paused in his work. No matter how many times he saw it, no matter where he was, or what he was doing, the change from day to night never ceased to awe him.  
  
The tall blonde let his breath out softly, a familiar ache rising inside him. Another sunset in another time filled his vision. The memory of soft dark hair by his shoulder and long moments of contented stillness brushed across his mind, as fleeting as ghosts. "Asuka." He was startled out of his reverie a few minutes later by Ken's annoyed voice. "Oi, Yoji! Finish already so we can close up shop!" Annoyed and relieved all at once, Yoji took one last draw from the cigarette before flicking it to the ground and stepping it out. He cast a glance at Ken, "Hey, turn up the radio Kenken."  
  
Ken glared at the nickname but did as Yoji had asked. It was a song in English and Yoji didn't recognize it, but it was soft and appealing. The singer's voice, "an Englishman, " Yoji thought, was slightly husky and each word sounded as if it was deeply meant. After a few minutes of listening, he began to hum along quietly.  
  
Ken had finished and was about to close the door when he noticed Yoji. Something in the other's bearing made the brunette leave the door propped open and move towards his teammate. He stood next to him, the other man still sweeping, the day almost gone and night well on its way. When his voice finally came, it was almost a whisper, the reverent hush that's usually reserved for churches and libraries.  
  
"Yoji?" Those few syllables conveyed a question that Ken couldn't put words to. "Are you okay?" seemed to fall short, and "what are you thinking?" sounded too nosy, and neither really expressed his feelings adequately anyway. Yoji looked up from his sweeping, eyes as mysterious and green as a cat's. The two just stood there like that for a minute. Caught up in that timeless moment when it is neither day, nor night, and everything that can, feels the air thicken with something that can't ever quite be named.  
  
"Do you believe in ghosts? " Yoji asked, his voice hushed, "The kind that find a place deep inside your soul, so that no matter where you go, or what you do, they're always there?"  
  
Ken licked his lips, his eyes glancing towards the darkening sky and the nearly empty streets, then back to Yoji. "I-I'm not sure… "he whispered. Ken opened his mouth to ask, 'Do you?', but Yoji smiled just then in a way that seemed to say, "shhh, no questions, " and though he couldn't have explained why later, Ken listened. He watched as Yoji set the broom against the side of the building, then turned and took one of Ken's hands.  
  
"Dance with me, " he said, his neko green eyes full of mischief. Blinking rapidly, Ken tried to think of some reason to say no. "B-but, someone might see…," he stammered, a slow blush spreading across his cheeks, the warm, creeping feeling in his chest coming back with a vengence.  
  
Blonde eyebrows rose inquisitively. "No one will see us Ken. The living can't see the dead." He drew Ken gently against him, wrapping his arms around the younger boy's thin waist. Ken hesitantly rested his hands on Yoji's shoulders, and they began to dance.  
  
The English singer's husky voice was still drifting out the doorway as the two moved gently with small, thoughtful steps. Yoji looked down at the boy in his arms and knew he was terribly confused. He knew he should keep his bizarre ramblings to himself, but it didn't stop him from speaking. Or from sighing at the feel of the warm body so close to his. He missed this. This feeling of closeness, sharing the first few moments of darkness with another person, a person who knew him and accepted him. "Someone I can care about, " he thought vaguely, breathing in the clean smell of the silky brown hair under his nose. Leaning close to Ken's ear he whispered, "Do you know what this song is about?"  
  
Ken shook his head, 'no,' and looked up, only to have his head pushed gently, but firmly against Yoji's shoulder. The two remained silent for a second, swaying to the music drifting out from the doorway nearby, their movements a few seconds behind the beat. After listening for a verse or two and applying his modest knowledge of the English language, Yoji whispered, "It's about realizing- admitting, you love someone after it's too late."  
  
Ken's mind was awhirl, trying to understand the strange things Yoji was saying. Trying to quell the warm feeling slowly spreading through his body from the pit of his stomach, leaving him feeling both lethargic and energetic. Finally he gave up, the sensation too new, and too frighteningly comfortable to elude. He felt his body relax into Yoji's, starting with his shoulders and moving down slowly. He wound his arms loosely around the taller man's neck, the fingers of one hand twining with a few errant tendrils of honey colored hair. Yoji tightened his grip in response, letting one hand slide into the silky fall of hair under his chin, the other pressing warmly against the small of Ken's back.  
  
Long minutes passed, the contented silence broken only by the satiny whispers of music and breathing. Dozens of stars winked into view overhead quite suddenly, as if curious to see what was going on below. A chill wind swept down to wrap lazily around the dancers, but it went unnoticed, so wrapped up in the moment were they.  
  
And then suddenly it was night. The darkness, which had been almost reluctant before, was suddenly absolute but for the thousands of stars sprinkled across the city, some artificial, some not. Almost simultaneously, the song faded away and was replaced by something that sounded pre-packaged and trite. A moment later Omi called from inside the shop, asking if they were done and would they please lock up?  
  
Yoji moved away from Ken reluctantly, still savoring the feeling of a moment earlier. He let his hand slide from Ken's hair slowly, loving the texture and a little surprised to find it in a male. The shorter brunette stared up at Yoji speculatively; brown eyes almost black in the shadows, but filled with questions the blonde man wasn't sure he could answer.  
  
"Arigatou, " he said instead, giving in to his sudden curiosity in regards to Ken's skin and allowing his fingers to trail softly against one flushed cheek as he took another step back. Ken's eyelids fluttered at the contact. Yoji's touch made his skin tingle and burn, like hot water on his skin after running in the cold. It was strange and new and unsettling, and it felt good. So Ken stepped away. It was too much, too fast. He could see Yoji's eyes in the light from the shop, the green almost eclipsed by the black of his pupils, strangely sad and curious all at once.  
  
"Betsu ni nandemonai, " he murmured. The silence had become awkward all of a sudden, both men a little unsettled by their moment of closeness, more so because it hadn't completely faded after that moment had passed. The sounds of cars and people laughing and dogs barking suddenly seemed very loud. Yoji fidgeted for a moment, then picked up his broom and headed for the shop.  
  
"I'll make sure the back is closed up if you check the front, " he tossed over his shoulder as he walked towards the yellow rectangle of light on the sidewalk spilling out from the doorway of the Koneko.  
  
Ken followed more slowly. He went through the motions of closing up mechanically, checking the windows, the cashbox, and the door, before moving to pull down the metal shutter. He paused to look at the moon, and touched his cheek wonderingly, "I wonder what that was all about, " he whispered. 


End file.
